


Not human enough

by maruzze



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, idk it's weird i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-01
Updated: 2016-07-01
Packaged: 2018-07-19 10:50:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7358254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maruzze/pseuds/maruzze
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was a time humans were unaware of the existence of gods, they thought about them and worshiped them, but not once their eyes caught sign of these creatures. Gods, on their part, couldn’t even phantom the idea of humanity, it was an alien concept that could only be found in the wildest dream of the lowest of their species, a ghost that haunted the dreams of these beings like an innocuous animal who could do no harm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not human enough

**Author's Note:**

> yo, well, this is a story i had in mind once and yeah, it may a bit weird and i have no one proof reading this so sorry for all the errors there may be, feel free to point them out (just remember my first language isn't english so yeah don't be too harsh on pointing them out) orz i have no idea what to say tbh

There was a time humans were unaware of the existence of gods, they thought about them and worshiped them, but not once their eyes caught sign of these creatures. Gods, on their part, couldn’t even phantom the idea of humanity, it was an alien concept that could only be found in the wildest dream of the lowest of their species, a ghost that haunted the dreams of these beings like an innocuous animal who could do no harm.  
However, it happened once, one single time, a god’s eyes gazed upon a human being and suddenly, not even the powerful being could fight back, a urge started to burn deep down in its mind: at first it was a tender, light sensation of protectiveness, like a father who wanted to wrap his strong arms around his weak, helpless son. Soon enough it evolved in a rampant, ravenous craving to possess the creature, to subdue their will to its wants, a complete and deliberate power over their very consciousness and morality. It wasn’t a human desire, it was a celestial longing born by the encounter with a pathetic individual such as the one the god observed.

A god couldn’t know how to give up their desire, it could have and have and have, as much as it required. It wasn’t different that time, it couldn’t be.  
It descended, from its divine dwelling, to the mortal world, a plane of existence it didn’t know or understand. It didn’t care, it was quick and it was easy: the human couldn’t reject such a request that wasn’t even asked or set, they submitted to the  
mighty creature only as a human could think a god would appreciate: allowing the god to take over their descent, a concept that its species couldn’t comprehend in any case.

That was the sign on the ruin of humanity, as it was later named the instant when the human sacrificed their own life in order to please the desire of subjugation of the god. The very being of it was so immense, brimful, overwhelming for the mortal body of a single human, so fragile and material for the essence of the offspring born from that sole moment, that it was consumed by its own children: it was like examine the decaying corpse of a parent devoured by the stronger, greedy young as it craved growth and supremacy.  
This moment was remembered as a sacrifice, as a betrayal, as a duty: humanity didn’t condemn the human, but at the same time their name, their face, their identity wasn’t carried in the memory of the future generations. It was a burden on the shoulders of a slave who was carrying his own whip, a mark made on the skin of a dead horse, a condemn the entire humankind was carrying by its own accord and by its own fear.

The reason of such a belief were the existence of those offspring, the fruit of that craving that lead to ignorant sacrifice: they were named demons, creatures who couldn't be classified as human or gods, impure half breeds feared by the humankind and unknown by the gods. Threw in their lives like primitive beasts with no home and no land, they run across the world to find a place where their condition could be accepted, but it was impossible due to their nature.  
Born by suffering, raised in isolation, these creatures continued their existences as they could, infiltrating in human society as they could and revealing themselves as a presence unable to hide itself, all humanity trembling at the sight of these beings made of pure power and destruction.  
Humans felt the need, the requirement to restrict the lives of the this new species that was living with them: they started to formulate laws in order to keep these demons to take over their entire race. However it was a complete, utter waste of energy by their part, they couldn't apply those same laws they wrote due to the deep fear of repercussion, of harm by the hands of those beings. Those laws rested, dusting, in the books where they were written, still effective, still possibly applicable, but generations of demons rised and died without even knowing of the laws' existence while the human children were taught to be brave, to benefit from the legislation made for them only, to keep those demons at bay. Each generation died in the same way, demons free to act and humans to scared to do it.

But there was nothing to act on. Demons lived their lives, they went on with their existences as they dragged the burden of glares, whispering, pointed fingers and shaking voices as their walked, with heavy steps, between groups of people who opened up so they didn't have to touch the creature, only frowning and shaking with rage and panic. Demons didn't have reason to take over, once every not and then a despotic hothead could decide to speak up, to try to drag the species to power by force, but their voices were soon suffocated by the indifference of the majority and the violent aggressions of the few who wanted to keep the status quo, who didn't want to scare humans more than necessary.  
More often than not, humans could recognize them without problems, a quick look and they were already walking to the other side, avoiding eye contact, lowering their heads as they were prying the creatures to be spared of a death the demon wasn't even plotting. They looked like humans, in all shapes, colors and heights, they walked like humans, talked like humans, moved through life like a human could.  
But they could feel in their bones the difference, the unnerving presence of a demon was peculiar, was different from any sensation they ever felt, to the point the mere thought of not being in the vicinity of one could bring a joyful feeling that grew like a flower in summer when the sun caress its petals. _Demons are like winter_ , it was a common sentence whispered in each other ears while they hoped they couldn't be heard, that the oppressing pall of dread in the room or the street was as far as possible from them, running and hiding away from a nonexistent danger.


End file.
